


So No One Told You

by lachambre11



Category: Friends (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Childhood Friends, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachambre11/pseuds/lachambre11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s in the middle of recording the perfect message when it happens.</p><p>She walks into the his favorite coffeehouse wearing the puffiest wedding dress in the world. There's an honest to god diamond-studded tiara perched on the top of her blond hair, and what seems to be mascara running down her cheeks. </p><p>She's a complete disaster, and still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. </p><p>*˜* </p><p>Or the one where Clarke gives the best hugs, Bellamy is a technophobe, Octavia is the voice of reason of the group, Raven tries her hardest not to kill anyone, Wick fails at adulting, Monty and Jasper blow shit up, Miller is judging everyone's life choices and they all drink a lot of coffee. Aka: the Friends inspired AU that nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one with the voicemail and the tiara

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me while I was lying in bed, half-delirious with fever. Blame the Tylenol and the flu. Unbeta-ed.

 

*˜*

 

“I can’t believe you’re really doing this”, Monty said, sipping his pumpkin latte like it was the tastiest drink on the planet instead of a culinary abomination. An offense to coffee lovers anywhere. The weirdest thing Bellamy had ever tasted. You choose it.

 

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t own a smartphone”, said Wick, the traitor. “I don’t how many times I’ve to say this, but here it goes. It’s 2015, man. Apple is not out to get us. Technology is our friend. Join us in this century before it’s too late”.

 

They all laughed and continued to mock him like he wasn’t even there, and Bellamy ignored them. His friends were just being dicks for the sake of being dicks. It’s not like he doesn’t appreciate innovation, okay? He has Facebook and everything.

 

He uses e-mails, and he texts Octavia because she refuses to pick up her phone and answer like a normal human being. But he has his limits, okay? He doesn’t think he needs to be attached to his phone or tablet or whatever else it’s out there. 

 

He prefers his conversations to happen face to face. He likes reading books where he can physically flip the pages and sometimes smell them. It's not _creepy_ , like Octavia said. It's not. He values and appreciates tradition. And he also really, really likes the snake game. He’s _this close_ to beating Miller’s record and rubbing it in his face, okay? He’s not about to give up.

 

“Look, what if someone tries to reach me? And they want to leave me a message, but they’re not sure if it’s my number? I’m just being safe”.

 

“Nobody leaves voicemails anymore, Blake”, Raven said, rolling her eyes. “Or listen to them. People text, FaceTime, Snapchat, or whatever the hell else. You’re just being an stubborn little shit”.

 

“Shut up. It’s my phone. I can use voicemail if I want to”.

 

-

 

He’s in the middle of recording the perfect message when it happens.

 

“Hi, you’ve reached Bellamy Blake’s phone. I can’t talk right now, but you can leave a message for Octavia or me after the – _Clarke_?”

 

His phone beeps, recording the message. But he barely registers, staring in shock at the girl in question. She just walked into The Dropship, his favorite coffeehouse in the city, wearing the whitest and puffiest wedding dress he had ever seen in his entire life.

 

Not that he had saw many, but you know. Still impressive as hell.  

 

There was an honest to god diamond-studded tiara perched on the top of her blond hair, and what seemed to be mascara and make-up running down her cheeks. She was a complete disaster.

 

And she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

“ _Bellamy?”_ and she launched herself into his arms like she was very sure of her welcome. Out of sheer instinct, and not out of ridiculous puppy love, like Raven said later, he opened his arms to welcome her there.

 

Whatever. It’s not like it was a hardship. Ever since they were little, it was a known fact that Clarke gave the best hugs.

 

“Thank god I found you!” the girl continued, as if they had scheduled to meet after not seeing each other for what? Six years? Maybe more. “This is the fourth coffeehouse I stumble into. Octavia isn’t’ great with directions, and my feet are killing me. I hate these fucking heels”.

 

He glared at Raven, Wick, Jasper and Monty until they rearranged their places to give Clarke a place to sit on the navy armchair beside the red couch where they usually hung out after (and before) work.

 

“Thanks guys,” she smiled softly at the group, and Bellamy could practically see Monty and Jasper’s hearts growing twice in size to fit in this girl that they had yet to meet. Clarke had that effect on people.

 

He clears his throat and starts with introductions.

 

“This is my soon-to-be ex-roommate, Raven Reyes. Those three are Jasper Jordan, Monty Green and Kyle Wick - they live next-door to us. Guys, this is Clarke Griffin, we grew up together, she’s O’s childhood friend”.

 

“Hey”, she waves shyly, and yep. Jasper and Monty are already gone for her. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I had nowhere to go. Octavia said that I could find you here, Bell”, and she turned those deep blue eyes towards him. “As you can see, I’m kind of in a jam?”

 

“You don’t say”, Raven interjects, a hint of smile on her lips.

 

“Yeah”, and Clarke blushed.

 

“What happened?” Bellamy asked. “Apart from the obvious”.

 

“I woke up, I think”, she says slowly, always measuring her words. “I was getting ready to walk down the aisle, and then suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Octavia and Monroe tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t stop crying. It was like a fog was being lifted, and I could suddenly see with clarity you know?” He nods, even though he doesn’t really know.

 

“Marrying Wells would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life. And I know what I did was really shitty, but I explained it to him as best as I could, and in the end I think he kind of understands why I couldn’t go through with it. He left for our honeymoon, but I just couldn’t stick around to deal with my mom. So O told me to come here”.

 

Bellamy’s heart was hammering out of his chest. He had spent the entire day trying to distract himself from the fact that Clarke Griffin, the girl he pined after for the better part of his college years, was marrying someone else.

 

And not some random guy she recently met either. No, her future husband was Wells Jaha. Future cardiothoracic surgeon, an all-around nice person and the son of Senator Thelonious Jaha. They guy that, up until now, Bellamy was sure was the love of Clarke’s life. They had been dating for years, ever since they were 15, and had been friends since they were in diapers. Everybody said they were meant to be.

 

She had invited them, Bellamy and Octavia, to the wedding. His sister was asked to be one of the bridesmaids, but he had begged out of the event. When Clarke called him about it, he had claimed that he couldn’t be able to make, that he would be out of town for a conference. She’d sounded disappointed, but accepted his excuses.

 

Now, she was sitting in his favorite chair on his favorite coffeehouse wearing what could only be described as a ball gown, the kind of dress that screamed elegance and privilege and taste, looking torn between feeling guilt and giddy excitement. Forgive him for being a little overwhelmed with this turn of events.

 

“I know it’s a lot to ask”, she started, and his heart tried to beat its way of his chest, “but I was wondering if I maybe could stay with you for a little while? Just until I get this mess sorted out? I sort of have nowhere to live at the moment, since I gave up my place and was supposed to move into Wells’ apartment in DC after the honeymoon”.

 

Clarke is staring at him with huge eyes, trying to use the puppy face she and Octavia employed on him when they were respectively eleven and nine and he was thirteen and too cool for his little sister and her friend, but they still wanted him to ride with them on their bikes to get ice-cream.

 

It’s a little ridiculous, seeing this look on a grown woman, but also adorable as hell. He’s still as unable to say no to her now as he was back then, and he’s sure she still knows this.

 

“Yeah, sure”, he said, and ended up with another armful of Griffin, smiling like a lunatic while she clutched him, whispering her gratitude against his shoulder.

 

Like he said – _the_ _best_ hugs.

 

“Well, shit”, Raven says, sipping her coffee with fake-nonchalance. “Life’s about to get a whole lot more interesting isn’t it?”

 

His friends nodded, as did Bellamy.

 

He had a feeling she was right.

 

(Raven was _always_ right. They just never liked to admit it).


	2. The one where Clarke moves in (and Ravens moves out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clarke and Bellamy are gossips, a trip to IKEA is taken, Miller has thoughts about wine and a couple of serious conversations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost count how many versions of this chapter I've written. This is the first one I didn't delete it in blind rage.

Clarke settles into the group seamlessly, as if she had always been there. He can see the gratitude in her eyes when they all embrace her without question – even Miller gave her a brief hug, and he usually refrains from showing affection.

 

After crashing on Octavia’s bed for the first two nights, while his sister stayed at Lincoln’s place, much to Bellamy’s chagrin, Clarke moved into Raven’s bedroom. They all stood in silent wonderment at the sight of her things, all sorted out, after the brunette had put off packing for the past month. 

 

“Look, dude, my flight leaves in three days”, she’d said, as ways of explanation. “I’ll just kick Wick out of his bed and you can start settling in, he won’t mind crashing on the couch, right?” she said, wordlessly daring him to protest.

 

But he just smiled, softly, and shrugged. Raven moved temporarily across the hall, to the apartment Wick shared with Jasper and Monty. The guy had it bad, and even Clarke, who had just gotten here, could see that.

 

“What’s up with those two? Isn’t she moving to Chicago with her fiancée?” she asked while he was helping her pick a dresser and a bed at IKEA, their cart already filled with so much shit that Bellamy was silently worrying about the cost of their little trip to Brooklyn.

 

“It’s a little weird, but it’s not, really,” he said, and that about summed it up. “What about that one? Koppang! Did I say that right?”

 

He tried to prevent a smile when he caught her glaring at him from the corner of his eye, but it was pointless. Pissed off was his favorite look on her.

 

“Bellamy! C'mon!” She was all but stomping her feet.

 

“You’re such a gossip”, and he was full on laughing now.

 

“So are you! Stop pretending you don’t wanna tell me”, she cried, punching his arm, without putting any of her very real force behind it.

 

“Ok, ok, easy Killer”, and it came out horribly fond, and completely obvious. He was lucky she was distracted by the prospect of gossiping about his (theirs?) friends to notice how gone for her he was.

 

“They met when Raven and I were sophomores at Columbia, and Wick was a junior. He was her Physics lab partner, and he fell in love at first sight. But she _hated_ him at first sight too. It was hilarious, you should’ve seen it”.

 

“Then?”

 

“Well, he didn’t know she had a boyfriend until he showed up on the surprise birthday party Wick organized for her, on our junior year. It was a whole thing – costumes, jack-o'-lanterns, thematic drinks, and a skull-shaped cake. He called ‘Ravenween’, because she was born a day after Halloween”.

 

“Ouch”.

 

“Yeah. I never saw someone’s face fall as hard as it did when Bro McDouche appeared. By then, we were all close friends, you know? But Raven is a pretty private person, so one knew really anything much about her. Especially that she had been dating this guy since they were thirteen years-old”.

 

“Well, shit”, and she was clearly hooked now, eyes huge and intent, focused on his face. Their cart lay forgotten by her side, and she took no notice of the way people were eyeballing them for taking so much space in the hallway, so he started guiding them to the another section of the store. “What happened next?”

 

“Look, I’m telling you this in confidence, right?”

 

“Cross my heart and hope to die”, and he smiled when she actually did it.

 

“Ok. So, Wick was broken-hearted, but Raven was so happy when the guy showed up that he tried his best not to show it. And you should see the way she gets around McDouche. It’s like he's her sun, you know? And she can’t look away”.

 

Clarke nodded, and they both sat down on a decorated Tyssedal bed, trying out the mattress. The mood had turned a little bit somber, as if Clarke could sense it that the next part of the story wasn’t very happy.

 

“He got _very_ drunk that night, and might’ve cried a little. I took him to my room, force-fed him water and Advil, and promised to never tell her how he felt. The next day, it was as if nothing had happened. He kept treating her like he always did, the whole fond/proud/annoying combo. It’s been this way ever since”.

 

“It’s been, what? Six years?” she asked, snuggling into his side.

 

It was a really good mattress, he decided. Clarke should buy it.

 

“Yeah. I asked him, once, why he never said anything to her. He told me he knew how much she loved Bro McDouche, and he didn’t wanted to ruin it, or ruin his friendship with her. That he only wanted her to be happy”.

 

Clarke’s eyes were shiny with tears, and he was getting a little misty himself. This next part really sucked.

 

“He proposed last year. We don’t really hung out, because nobody really likes him, and Raven knows, but pretends she doesn’t. She said yes, and then somehow he convinced her they should move back to Chicago so that he could work on his parents’ firm and become partner. He’s a lawyer”.

 

“Ew”.

 

“Exactly. Wick’s been trying to move on ever since, because this is it, you know? I don’t think he meant to wait around for her, but he didn’t really make an effort to move on. So now he’s stuck between being happy that she’s leaving and getting married, and that maybe he can give someone else a real chance, and being completely devastated by the fact that he probably will never see her again”.

 

“That’s a very sad story”.

 

“I know”.

 

“I love this mattress, though”.

 

“ _Right?”_

She ends up getting it the whole set they’re lying on and assembles the whole thing by herself, because she’s apparently magic or something.

 

 

*˜*

 

For all she settled easily into the group’s lives and routines, Clarke has a hard time dealing with the people she left behind. It’s cowardice, and she knows that, but she can’t bear to pick up the phone when she sees that it’s her mother calling.

 

Octavia is very annoyed by it.

 

“Don’t you think it would be better to face this head on?” the girl asks Clarke for what it feels like the umpteenth time.

 

“O, I know you’re worried. But you know my mom. If I talk to her without having a plan, she will blow up”, the blonde says. “It’s enough that I walked out of her dream wedding. If I tell her I don’t know what I’ll be doing with my life now, she _will_ freak out”.

 

“But I bet she’s already freaked out. You didn’t saw her at the church, Clarke. After Wells showed up and told everyone that the wedding was off, Abby’s face fell so hard. She kept asking me, and Wells, and even Mr. Jaha if they knew where you were. I think she’s scared you lost your mind or something”, Octavia insists.

 

“I think I kind of did, a little”, she admits softly. It had been the most certain she had been of her decisions in the past two years, but it was still scary. She had no job. She had no idea whether she would finish med school or drop out.

 

Her life felt filled with possibilities, and Clarke never dealt with the unknown. She _was_ playing it by the ear, but she had no desire to explain herself to her mother, not yet. Her relationship with Abby was, at best, distant and civilized.

 

At least it was before she turned into a runway bride and ruined her mother’s reputation in front of all their 256 closest friends and family. But that day, wearing the dress Abby chose, doing her hair like her mother wanted, marrying the guy Clarke loved, but wasn’t in love with, felt like a betrayal.

And she hadn’t done things for herself for a long time, but maybe she could start with this – with not making the biggest mistake of her life.

 

And she had texted her mom telling her that she was fine, healthy and staying temporarily with some friends. Octavia was just being a worrier, like she and Bellamy both denied to be.

 

“Look, Clarkie”, and it was a low blow, using her childhood’s nickname, but it certainly got her attention – which was probably Octavia’s intention. “I know things have been strained between you two since your Dad…”

 

“Died”, she supplement, because her friend looked distraught at having brought this up. It was, after all, the thing that had sent Clarke into a tailspin three years earlier. And it still hurt, acknowledging that Jake was gone.

 

But that wound had scabbed over, and she wasn’t going to pick at it anymore.

 

“Yeah. But she’s the only mother you have. Don’t you think it’s best to try and fix things with her while you still can?”

 

It hurt Clarke, hearing this. Because Octavia did have a point, and she hated admitting she wasn’t right. When her dad died, she was in the throes on med school, and they thought it best not to tell her about his diagnosis until things calmed down. But it didn’t – instead; Jake threw a clot after a chemo session and never woke up. When she finally got the hospital, he was long gone.

 

Clarke never quite forgave herself. Or her mother, to be completely honest.

 

And Octavia… Well, it was a touchy subject. But she still remembers how her friend cried at her own mother’s funeral, 19 and so scared. She remembers how O couldn’t sleep for weeks after it, can recall perfectly when she broke down and confessed that the last thing she’d said to Aurora was that she hated her.

 

And Clarke didn’t want that.

 

“Ok, O. You won. I’ll call her”.

 

The brunette gave her a pointed look.

 

“What? Now?”

 

“ _Yes”,_ she hissed.

 

“Fine, oh my god. Okay. You’re so bossy, it’s almost as bad as Bellamy”.

 

Her friend finally cracked a smile and waved her off, tossing her iPhone in her direction. “Go call you mother, I have very important things to do”.

 

Clarke pressed the dial and braced herself.

The conversation turned out exactly like she feared it would – a lot of yelling, angry accusations and even bribery. But by the end of the call they were both crying, hard, and Clarke was feeling a whole lot better, like a weight had been lifted out of her chest and she could finally breathe easier.

 

They weren’t on perfect terms, not even close to it, but it was a start.

 

*˜*

 

“Dudes and dudettes”, Raven said, opening her arms wide. “Welcome to FareRaven, a party where you guys say nice shit about me before I move out”.

 

The guys apartment was decorated with Cubs memorabilia and, strangely enough, different kinds of fans functioning on their maximum settings.

 

“The Windy City. Get it?” Wick asked, beaming like a little kid.

 

“You’re going to make a great dad someday,” Bellamy answered instead, rummaging their fridge for anything to drink that wasn’t beer.

 

“Uh?”

 

“Never mind. Where’s the vodka?”

 

-

 

Octavia, Jasper and Monty were in the middle of their rendition of Taylor Swift’s latest hit, standing at the top of the guys’ Ping-Pong table, when Raven found him, sipping a vodka tonic and trying to hide his smile at their friends’ antics.

 

“Doing the apology tour?” he asks after she sidled up to him, drinking Bourbon County and wearing a Chicago Bears cap, because Raven was committed like that. “You still owe me 20 bucks from the last pizza night”.

 

“I see through you. I’m moving to a place of superior pizza skills, and you’re just salty you don’t get to come with.”

 

“I’m a paleo now”, he jokes.

 

“Don’t swear at the temple, heathen”, and she knocked their shoulders together, her quiet sign that the conversation would be turning more serious from the on.

 

“Even though you’re a Sox’s fan, I’m gonna miss you”.

 

“You should. I’m very missable”.

 

“Shut up, Blake”, and they were both smirking at each other, but Raven’s smile had a saddened line to it. “We’ve been living together since sophomore year. You’re a grouchy asshole, and a total Mom, but I kind of like you okay?”

 

“I kind of like you too, Reyes”.

 

She looks away, and he knows it’s mostly for her own benefit. Raven doesn’t do public display of affection, and she especially doesn’t like to be seen crying.

 

“You know my family life was a shit show, but you guys…”, and he gulps, hard.

 

“I know. You’re not losing us, even though you’re marrying McDouche”.

 

At that, she laughs a little.

 

“Eight years, and you still can’t call him Finn”.

 

“You know I don’t trust him. But I trust you. So if you think it’s best to move back home and commit to him, I’m not going to question it”.

 

“I’ve been committed to him since we were kids. It’s not gonna change now. And he wants to live near his parents, eventually start our own family. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make”.

 

“Ok”.

 

“And I’m gonna eat so much pizza that I’ll get fat. It will be awesome”.

 

But the joke sounds flat even to his ears.

 

“Look”, and she takes a deep breath. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. But it will be okay. We’ll visit each other. And you gotta promise me something”.

 

“You’ll take care of Wick. Make sure he’s happy, ok? I know that he has a thing for me, or had, whatever. He’s an idiot, but he’s one of my best friends. I worry about him, exploding shit and cavorting around with the Chemistry Twins without me being around to reel them in”.

 

Bellamy studies her face, but her expression is guarded. He decides not to pursue it – she’s already said herself that Finn was _it_ , and Wick needs to move on.

 

“Ok, Rae”.

 

She smiles and raises her glass in a silent toast.

 

He toasts back, chugs on his drink.

 

It’s a promise.

 

*˜*

 

Look, Miller knows his shit, all right?

 

He doesn’t talk a lot, and people always seem to think he’s unfriendly because he has a case of resting bitchface, as Jasper once called it, but he gets people. He knows Bellamy since they were seven, and they got into a fight when a bully called Miller a fag in the playground.

 

Octavia it’s like a little sister to him, and he has known Clarke his whole life, literally, as their parents lived next door from each other back in Boston. He has a healthy amount of fear and respect of Raven. He knows Wick is a well-intentioned idiot, as is Jasper, and Monty…

 

Well, Monty is the greatest human being to ever walk on this Earth, apart from his mama.

 

So, he recognizes Bellamy’s lovesick face when he sees it. Granted, it’s been awhile. The first time was when he heard Roma’s name, on their first year of high school, and that had ended in tears (and arson).

 

The last time, it had been back when they were still in college, and had gone back home to visit Octavia and Clarke during spring break of their freshmen at Brandeis and Harvard, respectively.

 

It was a fun weekend, hanging out, playing videogames and trash talking each other, like it had been when they were kids. Except that this time involved a lot more alcohol than it used to.

 

Wells was stuck in D.C., working on his dad’s campaign, and it looked innocent at first, the way that Clarke and Bell gravitated towards each other. They had always been close, all of them, but Miller thinks it was the first time that Bellamy saw Clarke as more than his little sister’s best friend.

 

Then, a couple of months later, a drunk driver killed Aurora and it had taken a joint effort comprised of Octavia, the Griffins and Clarke to convince Bellamy not to quit school and move back home.

 

So he spent their last year at Columbia ignoring parties and other girls in favor of skyping with Clarke and his sister whenever he could. Miller pretended to didn’t notice the way his face lit up whenever she texted him, which was at least once a day. He pretended not to notice how Bellamy was applying to grad schools in Boston because he was hell-bent on moving closer to his sister and their friend.

 

But after graduation, when Octavia flew out but Clarke didn’t, because it coincided with Wells own ceremony, Miller decided to say something. Bellamy was pouting the entire day, and it harshing his mellow okay?

 

“Dude, you know she’s got a boyfriend”, he said, while they are passing around a bottle of whiskey. Earlier, Bellamy complained because he had suddenly decided to become that asshole that was all about wine, but Miller had gone selectively deaf and shoved the bottle in his general direction.

 

He had seen the dude drinking Coors Light once upon a time, okay? There was no coming back from that.

 

To Bellamy’s credit, he didn’t even tried to pretend he didn’t know what they were talking about.

 

“Yeah, I know. And I like him, I really do. They’re a great couple. I’m not trying to get between them, or anything”.

 

“I know you’re not that person. But you should move on. It's never gonna happen”.

 

“Yeah. You’re right”.

 

So move on he did. When he got into his first option for grad school, at Columbia’s Graduate School of Architecture, Octavia convinced him to stay in New York with Miller and his friends. After she graduated, she moved in with them to pursue her own graduate degree in political science. Clarke moved to California for med school.

 

And that was that, Miller thought. Well, at least until she showed up into their favorite coffee shop with what it had to be the mount Everest of wedding dresses.

 

Then it was back _on_.

 

It had been a month since she moved into Raven’s room, and Bellamy walked around with this dazed look on his face half the time. Octavia kept rolling his eyes at his obviousness, and Clarke carried on as obviously as ever.

 

They lived in each other’s pockets most of the time, but Bellamy and Clarke took it to another level. Miller couldn’t count the times he had come back from work and found them snuggling on the couch and hate-watching The Real Housewives of whatever, or cooking dinner together in the kitchen.

 

But he knew shit, okay?

 

His room was next to hers, and the walls are thin because their loft is a whole other level of shitty. He knew that she cried herself to sleep most nights, and that even though she acted like everything was fine, Miller knew better.

Clarke was far from okay. And she was in no shape or form to start something with anyone, especially with Bell, this soon. It was clear that this, the four of them living together under the same room, was both her anchor and safe place.

 

But while Bellamy was book smart, and basically a nerd, he was disaster when it came to love. And Miller might not say much, but he could tell that his best friend was falling for this girl all over again.

 

And that it could only end in tears, and maybe arson.

 

(Nobody could predict that sort of shit, but it _was_ becoming a pattern. First it was just Roma, but then Mel and Stephanie happened, so Miller started assuming fire and tears were a given when it came to Bellamy and break-ups).

 

It was time for one of their talks.

 

“Bellamy. You know she’s not ready to jump into a relationship, right?” he asked, while they were airing out a bottle of Pinot Noir, the football game on the background, a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn resting on their side table.

 

What? That shit actually tasted good, unlike the rosé Jasper was atwitter about, and Miller wasn’t above admitting it.

 

He gave him a startled look, apparently forgetting that he was as easy to read like a fucking open book.

 

“How did you –”

 

“You forget we have been friends for the past 20 years”, he pointed out slowly. “I know your lovesick face when I see it. Plus, it’s Clarke. I was there for the first time it happened”.

 

“Shit”, and the point of his ears were red, a telltale sign he was embarrassed. “Is it really that noticeable? I thought I was doing a good job of keeping it together”.

 

“Not really”, and his expression gave Miller pause. “Maybe it’s because I know you really well”.

 

“Do you think she knows? Shit, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable”, and he was now running his hands through his hair, making a mess of what was already, to be fair, almost a bird nest.

 

“Bell. Relax. Breathe. I’m 90% certain she didn’t noticed it”.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, naked relief in his voice.

 

“Sure. Just – ”

 

“I _know._ I wasn’t planning on doing anything about it; I’m not that much of a dick. She’s a mess, honestly, and she needs to figure herself out. I want to be her friend, and be there for her, that’s all. This” - and he made a wide, awkward gesture – “is a _crush_. It will fade out. It happened once, it will happen again”.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure”, and there was conviction there.

 

But the things is -

 

Miller had a feeling it wouldn’t last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense meant for people who a) root for the Yankees b) Are on a paleo diet c) Are all about the wine. I'm not from the USA, nor English is my first language, so forgive me if my references are spotty or lacking. I hope you guys enjoyed, and felt it was worth the wait. I know it was a lot of backstory and exposition, but I'm sort of new at this. 
> 
> Reviews make my day ;)


	3. The one with the blackout, part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wick is in denial about being in denial, Clarke has a heart-to-heart with her sister, Octavia makes a startling discovery in the middle of a gourmet supermarket and people actually talk on the phone, a lot. Who knew, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, at this point I'm questioning my sanity and you should question yours all well

**The one with the blackout, part I**

It doesn’t matter what all of his friends think or say – Wick does not pine. Yes, he’s had a thing for Raven since college. But he accepted that it wasn’t in the cards and he settled for being her friend instead. Well, not settled, that’s the wrong word for it. Because being friends with her was awesome. But he dealt with his feelings without stirring up any shit, and he dated a lot for the past six years, okay?

 

Maybe not a lot. But a sufficient amount. A normal amount, if you will.

 

So yeah, he does not pine. He copes in totally healthy and doctor-approved ways. Take last Wednesday night, for example. Raven had called the gang with updates, mostly to say she was loving to be back in Chicago, and that she and Finn were thinking about adopting a puppy, and he acted like a normal person and talked to her instead of walking out and punching a wall like some people, let’s call them Bellamy _,_ might’ve done in his place.

 

Instead, he stayed up all night and built a totally awesome cat robot that meowed, purred and sat on top of your head if you fall asleep and everything. See? Productive.

 

He’s not acting like a sleep-deprived heartsick lunatic, as Octavia had called him tonight. Wick knows he’s upset and that he got his heart broken, okay? He’s not in denial of that. It’s not like he doesn’t acknowledge his pain or whatever. He just prefers not to dwell on it.

 

Raven is doing great, and this is all he could’ve hoped for, even if he’s still highly suspicious of everything Finn does or say. That guy doesn’t really appreciate her, not like she deserves to, because frankly that woman was meant to be worshipped as the goddess that she is.

 

But, as long as _she_ feels appreciated, he’s supporting her decision to quit her job, move to another state and marry McDouche. He’s not the asshole that’s gonna rain on her parade. He’s the asshole that’s gonna tell her she looks beautiful in her wedding dress, and he’s gonna mean it.

 

So, he’s doing just fine with her absence. For example: the really cute barista at The Grounder’s café asked him out yesterday, and he said yes. They’ve been texting, making vague planes to get some coffee (yes, he knows) and there’s no twinge in his chest or any residual feeling of guilt for agreeing to go out with Anna while still being affected by Raven’s general existence because:

 

a)    He’s only human, after all;

b)   It’s not cheating if the other person has a fiancée and it’s not into you;

c)    It’s just coffee. Right?

d)   It’s also called moving on;

e)    Plus, Anna is _really_ cute.

 

So unlike some of his nosiest friends – aka Jasper, Octavia and Bellamy – might think or say, Wick is not pining or acting like a kicked puppy whose owner dropped him a shelter (thanks for that visual, Miller) or anything like that. He’s a strong confident men who is getting over someone by maybe, hopefully, getting under someone else. If that said person consents to his sexual advances. And also because he really likes girls who take charge in the bedroom, sue him.

 

*˜*

 

“I got a job! I got a job!”

 

“It’s fuck o’clock in the morning, Ace. And I’m in bed, naked. Have some chill”.

 

“Money, Jesus! How come you’re still asleep? It’s nine, and you had class at 7:30”

 

Sometimes Monroe forgets that nothing gets past her sister. Sighting, she throws the covers aside and searches around for her underwear. She has a rule to at least be wearing panties when she talks to her family.

 

Well, she tends to be fully dressed when she talks to her mother because Monroe thinks that Abby will just _know_ if her youngest is chatting on the phone wearing only her pajamas. She doesn’t want to risk that lecture.

 

“Ugh, Clarke. Stop stalking me”.

 

“It’s called _caring”,_ and Monroe chuckles at her sister’s offended tone. “I’m six years older than you, Money, I’m allowed to do that”.

 

“Yeah, you are”, she agrees easily as she slips into the old Patriot’s shirt their dad gave her when she was 15 and embarrassingly crushing on Tom Brady.

 

“Okay, I’m decent. We can talk now”.

 

“You’re wearing pants?”

 

“Please. It’s as if you never meet me”.

 

“It’s a no then”, and her sister’s voice sounds soft and sweet on the other side on the phone, and it hits her, all of the sudden, just how much she misses her. It’s been two months since Monroe handed Clarke her purse, 40 dollars for the cab, and sneaked her out of the church she was supposed to get married in.

“So you finally got off your lazy ass and got a job”.

 

“Yes! I’m a bartender!”

 

“Shut up!” and she’s full on grinning now. If her roommate was here, she would be really freaked out. Monroe thinks of smiles as precious gifts to be only given to deserving people, on rare occasions. “This is awesome!”

 

“I know, right? I will finally make use of that Harvard degree”.

 

“Mom will be so proud, Ace”, and Clarke laughs, because there’s a 99% chance that their mother will pitch a fit once she hears this. But she’s also pretty sure their father, wherever he is, is very delighted by this turn of events. He had worked in the service industry for years to pay for college and grad school, and he taught them the importance of working hard for their own money. Plus, Clarke has awesome taste in drinks. The whole thing is going to be a huge success.

 

“Where is it? Did you told Happy already?”

 

“Sort of, I called her a couple of minutes ago, but she didn’t pick up. So, I just sent her a text saying I got a job, but that she will have to call me for details”.

 

“Uh. Harper didn’t pick up? That’s weird”.

 

“Right? She barely let it rung when I called before, but now I never manage to reach her. And she’s been ignoring my texts”, and Clarke’s voice turns saddened, thinking about the last time they say their sister, Also at the ill-fated wedding. Harper had walked in the bride’s dressing room, wondering why they were taking so long to join the procession, and wasn’t very pleased when she found out the reason behind Monroe and Clarke’s tears wasn’t the joyous occasion.

 

“Now that you mention, she hasn’t been really talking to me either. But I didn’t noticed because, unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my sisters’ lives”, she tries to joke, hoping to distract Clarke enough until she could talk to the other girl. Harper was usually the one calling them all the time, sending Snapchats, organizing Sisters’ Night on Skype, where they drank tequila and alternated between watching romcoms when it was Harper’s turn, horror movies if Monroe had the night’s pick or whatever CW crap Clarke came up with. 

 

But she had been unusually quiet for the past few weeks. Monroe had noticed, but let it slip because she was away at college, and there were parties to be had, patriarchy to be taken down, and classes to be attended. Well, if they started after 9 a.m.

 

“Really, Monroe. Happy disappeared on you as well?”

 

She should’ve known Clarke wouldn’t be talked down before she got to the bottom of something. Her older sister, just like their mother, is like a dog with a bone. There’s no stopping that train of questioning. “A little. But I mostly thought it was because she’s writing her thesis, and you know how intense she gets about schoolwork, so I hadn’t thought much of it”.

 

“You might be right. But I’ve a feeling there’s more going on with her than we actually realize. She’s been freezing me out for the past two months”.

 

“Look, I bet she’s busy. Have you asked Wells if he’s seen her?” she asked, cringing immediately. She hadn’t meant to go there, it was just… habit.

Wells had been so ingrained in their lives, since the beginning of time. Ever since Monroe could talk, Wells had always been there. And after he and Clarke started dating, even at 15, everyone assumed they would end up together. Even Clarke and Wells themselves. Maybe that’s where it went wrong.

 

“Ace, I’m sorry,” and she doesn’t have much to say but this, because it’s no one’s fault. It’s hard, sometimes, to remember that her sister and Wells are over. They were together for almost 11 years, and had been close friends before that.

 

“That’s okay. I know it’s hard. Even I forget, sometimes, that we’re over”, and Monroe is relieved to hear the forgiveness there. “The truth is, we’ve been emailing for the past month. He told me he’d enrolled with Yale for his doctorate, and was figuring himself out. I told him I’m doing the same – that is was the whole point of our break-up. We’re… well, not ok. But we’ll get there, maybe”.

 

“And how you’re doing? Just you?”

 

“I’m better than I’ve been for the past year, really. I know you don’t like to admit you worry about me, Money, but this time don’t even try to deny it”.

 

“Shut up”, but it’s mostly a token protest. Another habit. It makes Clarke chuckle.

 

“But I’m really better. My head is – clearer, I guess. I wake up; I go running if I feel like it. I paint every day, and cook dinner sometimes, and we all eat breakfast together. It’s all very simple, and also the most fun that I’ve had in ages”.

 

“And how are the roommates? Have you jumped Bellamy yet?”

 

“Shut up”, and she’s full on laughing now. Monroe had been teasing her sister about this ever since she heard Clarke was sharing an apartment with her childhood’s crush. “I was twelve. When you were the same age, you tried to stay up late to watch One Tree Hill all the time, and was _obsessed_ with Shakira”.

 

“Can you blame me? She’s fucking hot”.

 

“Bellamy thinks so too. His secretly favorite song, to this day, still remains ‘Hips Don’t Lie’. I’ve caught him dancing to it on three separate occasions”.

 

Monroe can’t breathe.

 

“Oh my god”.

 

“Right? You can tease him about it when you come visit me during spring break”.

 

“Forget spring break, I’m leaving Brown tonight”, because she couldn’t picture tall, dark and mysterious doing the choreography for the song. She had to see this with her own two eyes.

 

Their laugh lapse into silence after a while, and… it’s nice. Monroe had missed this side of her sister, affectionate and kind. After their dad died, they all handled differently. Their mom and Clarke, always more alike than they cared to admit it, shut down. Abby threw herself at her work, and Clarke faded into a shell of herself, going through the motions on med school and not taking care of herself. Harper cried all the time, and deferred for a semester, staying at home alternating between trying to take care of their mother and their sister. Monroe hid out at Providence, binge-ate Twix, got into a lot of fights and fucked more people than she cared to remember. It was a very depressing time for all of them.

 

But they had been slowly getting better. Once Wells and Clarke got engaged, her sister seemed to be coming out of the fog she’d retreated into since the funeral, and they all eventually forgave her mother for not telling them about Jake’s diagnosis. But the first time she truly glimpsed again the girl she had grew up idolizing was at her wedding day – when Clarke looked into her eyes and said –

 

“I can’t do this. Will you help me?” and there was no way Monroe would say no.

 

She’s cuddling with her favorite teddy, a patchy brown bear dressed like a sailor called Mr. Beaumont, when Clarke spoke again, rushed and quiet, like she was telling her a secret.

 

“I’m thinking about volunteering”.

 

“ _Really_?” This was a touchy subject, in the past year. Volunteering had been a Griffin tradition, the way Abby and Jake met and fell in love, the thing they did with their daughters instead of going camping or taking road trips together. Harper loved being involved in children’s charities, and Monroe volunteered at women shelters. Clarke and Abby usually did anything involving medical skills, and Jake had done volunteer construction since high school. 

 

“Yeah. I think it’s time I come back to it. Even though I don’t see myself finishing my residency, it doesn’t mean I can’t do something good with my degree. And… volunteering and painting. I think it’s my own way to feel close to Dad again”.

 

“This is great, Clarkey… I’m really glad you’re feeling better. It was scary there for a while”.

 

“I know. I’m sorry”.

 

“Don’t apologize. We were all fucked up. Dad was so special, you know? He had a way of showing you how much he loved us without no expectations, no reservations, no judgment. He just _loved_. And it was too soon for us to lose him. He was only fifty-five. We were supposed to have, at least, two more decades. Not even Mom was prepared for that, and she’s usually prepared for everything”.

 

“Yeah”, Clarke says, and damn it, Monroe’s eyes were all wet now. She doesn’t like the feeling.

 

“So get out there. Discover what you really love about life, and embrace it. This is what would make him happy – knowing that you’re making yourself happy”.

 

“Jesus, Money. When did you get so smart?”

 

“I was born that way”, and there’s tears now too, shit. It is way too early in the morning for this kind of emotional fuckery. “Clarke, I gotta go”.

 

“I know”, and her sister did known her, because her voice is filled with understanding. For someone who was hoping to make a living out of eliciting emotions with her words, Monroe’s shit at feeling them and even worst at expressing it. “Take care of yourself, Money. I love you”.

 

“Thank you”, she says, another tradition, and they laugh before hanging up.

 

Screw class, she’s going back to bed. This has been a long day already.

 

But first, she’s texting Harper. What the hell is her other sister up to?

 

*˜*

 The day had started out great for Octavia. She woke up with an armful of muscular-tattooed flesh in the form of her very hunky, very asleep boyfriend, who really liked to cuddle, especially when she was the big spoon. It was practically impossible, then, not to kiss the naked expanse of his back until he stirred. And then it was when things got really fun, and they even managed to squeeze in a nap before going about their morning routine – work out, shower, breakfast with the gang, Lincoln heading to the dojo and her to the office.

 

She’s on her way home from the headquarters when her phone rung.

 

“Octavia? Hello! It’s Bellamy.”

 

She doesn’t even try not to roll her eyes. Bellamy and his technophobic ways were too much sometimes, and she’d had a long day at work.

 

“Greetings and salutations, dearest brother”, with the poshest accent she can muster, and Bellamy's annoyance can be felt from the end of the line. “How do you do on this fine evening?”

 

“O. C’mon…”

 

“You’re lucky I answered the phone. Why don’t you just _text_ , like a normal person? And you do know about the existence of caller’s id, don’t you? I thought I’d instructed Wick to warn you about such things”.

 

“Shut up”, he drawls out, like the goddamned diva he is (and denies it).

 

“Please file your request and leave. I can’t deal with your whiny voice during rush hour at the subway”.

 

“Why are you so mean?”

 

“Because, Bell, I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother – ”

 

“Octavia Blake!” and it’s a testament to how awesome she is that she doesn’t burst out laughing.

 

“Stop clutching your pearls and just tell me watcha you want, Bell. Otherwise I _will_ start speaking in French with you”. 

 

He whistles, because this is not a threat she throws around lightly. “Ok. There’s no need for that, calm down. I just need you to go to Freddie’s? I need you to pick up a bottle of Limoncello for me, I’m doing pasta tonight and I don’t enough for the recipe”.

 

Octavia takes a deep, calming breath. She’s a good sister like that. “Is this your nerdy way of trying to woo Clarke? Because it will not work, let me tell you that right now”.

 

“No!” and the protest would be cute if it weren’t so completely transparent how much of a lie it is. She stays silent, and Bellamy gives in. “Not really?”

 

“Dude”.

 

“It’s not… She’s got a job, O. I just wanted to celebrate that”.

 

“With fancy food, what you think it’s good wine and some candlelight?”

 

“Limoncello pasta it’s not _fancy!”_ he sounds scandalized. Her older, supposedly mature brother, ladies and gentleman. “It’s not romantic if you’re all invited”.

 

“Keep telling yourself that”.

 

At least he has the decency to try and change the subject. “Well, will you get it? I could go, but I’m already two blocks down from home, I need to marinate –”

 

“Shut up. You know I hate it when you talk foodie to me. Just appreciate the kind of sister that I am, the one that goes out of the way to buy weird Italian wine, in 6-inch heels, so that her awkward older brother can try to seduce her emotionally-fragile childhood friend”.

 

“Thanks, O. You’re awesome”.

 

“And don’t you ever forget it”.

 

“I won’t. Also, if you find some fresh, organic basil –”

 

“Bye, Bell”, and she hangs up before he decided to add eight more ingredients to his un-fancy pasta. If he wants her to pick up something else bad enough, he’ll text. She heads out towards Freddie’s, powering against the crowd by focusing on walking like a queen, as taught by the powerhouse that is Charlize Theron. It worked every time.

 

Octavia’s perusing the fresh produce aisle when she accidentally bumps into the person she least expects to run into Freddie’s, at seven o’clock on a Friday night, and cried out in shock.

 

“ _Raven?_ ”

 

And this is the exact moment that all the lights go out in New York City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's questions, I gave Clarke two sisters - Monroe (the baby of the family, at 20, going to Brown) and Harper (23, middle child, going to Yale). Jake gave his daughters their respective nicknames - Ace because Clarke was the firstborn AND an over-achiever; Happy because Harper was a very chill and smiling child, and Money because the girls had problems saying Monroe's name, so it was cute and stuck (also, because I loved its use on LayALioness' story "Strange Winds Surround Us". 
> 
> There's more to come from this insane universe, so tune in if you stuck with it so far? Tells me your thoughts, suggestions and ideas? I want to hear them! The first person to guess the Friends' piece of trivia I used here gets... something, we'll figure it out

**Author's Note:**

> I OWN NOTHING! My first WIP in ages, god help me. Tell me if it's shitty so that I can stop inflicting this on you. Reviews are tastier than peanut butter, leave one and I'll love you forever.


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